


Steam

by smcthegreat



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Season 4 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 05:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smcthegreat/pseuds/smcthegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Real or imaginary? Myka Bering stumbles onto Helena Wells at the B&B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tm02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tm02/gifts).



> Many thanks to my wife for her support and feedback. Also, thanks to Tris, who provided some much needed cheer leading right when I needed it most. Writer's Rehab continues. 
> 
> This is all conjecture on my part. Also, I don't own, so please don't sue.
> 
> I wrote this for an awesome, spectacular, wonderful woman for her birthday. Then I failed to post it on said birthday. I suck, I know. But here it is! Happy Belated Birthday, Pretty Lady. :)

Myka woke to an odd sound outside her door. She groggily leaned up on one elbow and cracked open a bleary eye, trying to identify the noise. Grumbling, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and gingerly put her feet on the floor, hoping Pete hadn’t gotten into some sort of mischief yet again. She padded across the floor and took a moment to crack her shoulders and neck, wondering at the aches she felt. Myka pursed her lips and hesitated. The last thing she remembered was being at the hospital. So why was she here, back at her room at the B&B? 

  


A quick perusal showed her room to be in order, her phone worked and her contacts were all there, her closet still held all her clothes and possessions. Myka headed back towards the door. There was that noise again. A quick twist of the knob and she was out in the hallway. A glance both ways gave her no information but the sound was louder. Myka tiptoed down the hallway, careful to avoid the boards that never failed to creak and groan. IF there was trouble, she didn’t want to give away whatever advantage she might have. She came upon an open doorway and finally identified the noise: the shower was running. Her face scrunched in confusion. Pete, free spirit that he was, wouldn’t shower with the door open. Neither would any of the other inhabitants. Family they might be, but no one wanted to walk in on any more naked bodies than the job absolutely called for. 

  


Myka cleared her throat, not wanting to embarrass anyone unless she had to. “Um, hello?”

  


A muffled noise came in reply and steeling herself for a, no doubt, awkward situation, Myka craned her neck around the door frame. “Everyone okay in there?”

  


Her mouth dropped open at the silhouette of a naked woman in the process of rinsing her hair. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. The door was open and I -”

  


A low chuckle sounded and the hair at the back of Myka’s neck prickled. She knew that voice.

  


“Finally wake up, did you?” Helena Wells peered around the shower curtain, a Cheshire grin on her face. 

  


“Helena?” Myka squeaked, whirling around to face the opposite direction. She could feel her face burning with heat. And then higher brain function kicked back in. Myka turned her head to the side, careful to avert her eyes. “What the hell are you doing here? Is something wrong with Adelaide? Are you okay?”

  


The sound of water falling onto a porcelain tub filled the air. Long moments passed and Myka slowly turned her head, peering one eye over her shoulder to see Helena still peeking around the shower curtain, a peculiar expression on her face. “Helena?”

  


Helena shook her head and gave Myka a too bright smile. “Yes, sorry. Ah, no, there’s nothing wrong with Adelaide and I’m quite fine. Myka, what day do you think today is?”

  


“Um, Thursday?” Myka’s brow furrowed. “I think.”

  


Helena pursed her lips and nodded her head once. “Right. You can turn around and come in. Have a seat and I’ll explain a few things.” 

  


At Myka’s hesitation, Helena leaned back into the gap. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, darling.”

  


Myka rolled her eyes and rubbed at the back of her neck before squaring her shoulders and turning back towards the naked woman showering in front of her. She exhaled slowly as she put the lid down on the toilet seat and stared straight ahead as she desperately tried to both not put mental images to the sounds she was hearing and also grab the fuzzy ends of thoughts and knowledge just out of reach. 

  


“Close the door, would you? I’d hate for anyone to stumble in here.” Helena’s voice was rich with amusement. “Might make things awkward.”

  


The door shut, Myka perched on her makeshift seat and took a deep breath. “So, are you going to explain things to me?”

  


“Of course. It would appear that you’re having some cognitive deficits again. I think you refer to it as ‘chemo brain’.” Helena leaned back and gave Myka an amused look. “It happens with cancer survivors who’ve had chemotherapy. It’s perfectly normal. It’s happened before and we’ve gotten through it. Just like we will now.”

  


Myka said nothing, her brain frantically reaching for something, anything that corroborated Helena’s words. Myka asked, rapid fire, “What was it like before? How long does it last? What are you doing here?” 

  


A quiet sigh sounded, barely discernible over the water running. “Before, you were disoriented and were missing some memories. You had a hard time keeping new information and were irritable and depressed. But we worked through it and you improved. It lasts as long as it lasts, Myka. It’s a normal phenomenon in cancer survivors.” 

  


“And the rest?”

  


“It’s funny you know, you asked me the exact same thing when I first came back. The answer is the same then as it is now. I’m here because this is where I belong. With you.”

  


Myka swiftly rose and tore back the curtain, coming face to face with an anguished looking, thoroughly naked Helena. Myka’s voice was hard. “And Nate? And Adelaide? What about them?” 

  


Helena smiled sadly. “I’d imagine they’re enjoying their new life with no memory of Emily Lake or anyone named H. G. Wells.”

  


The color drained from Myka’s face. “What? Why, Helena? Why would you do that? I told you to fight for them.”

  


“I did. For a while, I did.” Helena meets Myka’s gaze unflinchingly. “You were right; I was running away again. I was pretending to be someone else so that I might find some peace. Even if it was hollow.”

Helena paused a moment. “But it wasn’t to be. I was substituting Adelaide for Christina and she deserves better than that.” The old wry smile surfaced. “You always did know me best, darling.”

  


“But -”

  


Helena made a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Still always running two steps ahead. I’m where I’m meant to be, Myka. I’ve found my truth, even though I fought against it for over a century now.”

  


Myka’s brow furrowed. “What truth is that?”

  


A long, piercing look, complete with raised eyebrows caused a flush on Myka’s face. “Oh. Right.”

  


“Right,” Helena mimicked, leaning forward to push a wayward strand of hair back behind Myka’s ear. “It wasn’t easy. Nothing with us ever is, but we got through it together. I’ve been here near the entire time you were ill. That was a battle royale. I must say, I’m partially glad you can’t remember it at the moment.”

  


“Ha ha.” Myka frowned. It all seemed so much: Helena here, Myka apparently healthy, the enormous chance they’d taken getting together. Could it be true? Or perhaps it was something else.

  


“I know what you’re thinking.” Helena sounded amused as she gathered up a loofah and some body wash, heedless of her audience. “You’re wondering if you’re under an artifact’s influence.” Helena rolled her eyes and soaped one lithe arm. “Because of course, the only way Myka Bering and Helena Wells would be happy together is if some artifact manufactured an artificial reality of some sort.”

  


“The thought might’ve crossed my mind,” Myka said, dryly.

  


“I’d be worried if it didn’t, honestly.” Helena lolled her head to one side and slid the loofah up the curve of her neck to the beginning of her jawline. An impish eyebrow raised in clear challenge. “Well, it’s really up to you. Ask yourself, darling: the reality you know or an alternative one, if this is our happy ending, do you really want to waste it?” 

  


Myka took all of five seconds to decide that memory loss or under the influence, Helena Wells was in the shower, daring her to come in and do something about the fair skin being put on display; she wasn’t going to waste this golden opportunity. She stripped and with a gleam in her eyes, stepped into the tub. The water was still hot, steam wreathing them both in it’s thick tendrils. Real or no, Myka Bering was going to live out just one of the many fantasies she’d had about Helena over the years. If they were really and truly happy together, all the better. If not, her time in the Warehouse had taught her, painfully so, that you had to snatch what joy you could whenever the moment presented itself. 

  


A low moan greeted Myka’s ears as she stepped flush up against Helena’s body. She couldn’t help her own sharp inhalation at the feeling of their flesh finally meeting, no barriers, no distance, no complications. With the door closed, the air turned thick and moist. Myka inhaled deeply, catching the warm smell of the body wash, the humid air, and she’d swear the scent of Helena’s skin. The soapy slickness melted under the persistent spray of the shower head and slid down the creamy expanse of Helena’s back, dripping onto Myka’s chest. A quick turn and Helena faced Myka, mischief written all over her features. “I have to say, I’m glad you picked -”

  


Helena’s voice faltered as Myka brought her hands up to cup Helena’s face. Their eyes met and held as slowly, achingly slowly, Myka leaned forward until their lips were a mere breath apart. Myka watched as Helena’s eyelids fluttered closed, felt the warm breath on her lips and as she bridged that small, endless space, her thinking mind shut down and for once, her heart was given free reign. For long moments, all they did was kiss, chaste and innocent. Then, Myka’s fingers threaded into the wet, silky mass of Helena’s hair and tightened. The hitched breath set fire to Myka’s blood and heat raged throughout her whole body. She attacked Helena’s mouth, sucking on the luscious bottom lip, scraping her teeth against it, encouraged by Helena’s arms thrown about her shoulders, fingernails digging into Myka’s skin. 

  


“Open,” Myka commanded, her voice harsh with passion. She made a noise in the back of throat as a surprised Helena complied without thinking. A muffled sound escaped as Myka pushed her tongue inside to slide against Helena’s. The water beat down around them but for Myka, there was only Helena. The taste of her, the dance of their tongues, the harsh sound of Myka breathing through her nose, the music of their mating. A frenzied feeling churned in Myka’s gut; she had to have more, more Helena, more, more, more. 

  


Helena pulled back, gasping for breath. “Slowly, darling. We have time.”

  


Myka shook her head and leaned in to nip at the underside of Helena’s jawline. “Later. We’ll go slow, later. Right now, I want you.”

  


Helena grabbed Myka’s hands and leaned down to make eye contact. “Then you shall have me. I’m here, Myka.”

  


Unexpected tears welled up, stinging Myka’s eyes. “Promise?” Her voice broke on the word.

  


Helena nodded and brought one of Myka’s hands up to tenderly kiss at the knuckles while she placed the other over her heart. “I promise. Feel that? It’s yours. This is real.”

  


Myka sagged in her arms and leaned her forehead against Helena’s. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  


“Shhh,” Helena soothed. “It’s alright.”

  


This time, Myka was more restrained in her overtures. Her kisses remained tentative until Helena surged forward to claim her lips fully. With lips and teeth and tongue, Helena spoke the words needed to reassure Myka’s heart. Their lips joined; Myka’s hands wandered. Down the graceful curve of the neck, the elegant line of her shoulders, skimming the planes of her chest until her hands met pert nipples and circled, glorying in the soft whimper caught in Helena’s throat. The water streaming down around them made already soft skin slick with moisture and Myka’s fingertips teased the sensitive areolae, the water causing her fingers to slip and slide. Helena threw her head back and groaned when Myka finally took the stiffened peaks between her fingers and gently tugged. She replaced one hand with her mouth, savoring Helena’s cries of pleasure, as her hand trailed down the firm, flat stomach and finally found a place wetter and more heated than the water falling around them. 

  


“Myka,” Helena gasped, her hips rising involuntarily. 

  


Myka released the nipple she was currently worrying with her teeth and rose to lock eyes with Helena once more. Memorizing every detail of Helena’s face, Myka slid her fingers through wetness that forced a moan from her mouth. It was unbelievably arousing to feel how turned on Helena was for her. She dragged her fingertips through swollen folds, watching in fascination as a press here, a stroke there, a twist around that swollen bud, brought all sorts of expressions to Helena’s face. When her fingertips teased Helena’s entrance, Myka hesitated. This was another moment she truly believed she’d never get to experience.

  


“Please.” The word hung in-between them. 

  


She carefully slid one finger inside, breathing hard as Helena tipped her head back against the cool tile of the wall and made a low, keening sound that made something in Myka’s gut tighten. She set a tortuously slow pace, not wanting to miss a moment of Helena’s face, of her sounds of pleasure, of the snug warmth that kept luring her back and back and back, over and over again. Myka grit her teeth when Helena dug her fingernails into her shoulder. Another finger introduced resulted in some perfectly filthy language spilling from the lips of Helena Wells. 

  


Cursing, begging, demanding, Helena voiced her pleasure and her need. A feeling of power and a certain kind of humility suffused Myka as she beheld this brilliant woman pushed to the very edge. 

  


“Look at me,” Myka breathed, her breath coming faster as she sped up her efforts. Their eyes met, Helena’s dark with desire, Myka’s gleaming with tenderness and want. The steam swirled and encased them in this perfect moment. She pressed her fingers inward and brought her thumb up to stroke downwards, creating a rhythm of delicious friction. 

  


“ _Myka_ …”

  


“Now, Helena. Come for me.”

  


Til the end of her days, Myka swore she would remember the moment the wave broke and spread. She would remember the look on Helena’s face, that lustrous voice unstrung in ecstasy, the cries and sounds that sounded like Myka’s name; a plea and a prayer all in one. Myka slowed her motions, prolonging Helena’s pleasure as long as possible, loathe to leave the place she could bring Helena so much delight. Eventually though, she withdrew her fingers and without a word, brought them up to her lips and meticulously cleaned each one; her eyes never left Helena’s. It was Myka’s turn to moan as she learned Helena’s taste, swearing it to memory as well.

  


“I think it’s time I returned the favor.” Helena’s eyes sparkled. 

  


Myka smiled. “I’m not gonna say no to that. Except we might need to get out soon, unless you like your women all pruney.”

  


“Perhaps I do,” Helena answered, smartly.

  


“Helena, I -”

  


A loud banging sounded at the door. Myka sighed and leaned in to steal a quick kiss. “Looks like the jig is up. Rain check?”

  


Helena made a humming sound of agreement and leaned in to shut off the water. 

  


The banging continued. “Okay, okay. Just a second,” Myka called out. She shook her head at Helena. “Jeez. Like Pete can’t wait a few minutes.”

  


They traded kisses as they dried off with fluffy towels, giggling and whispering as the pounding on the door continued. Towel firmly knotted, Myka reached for the doorknob, determined to give Pete a piece of her mind. There were other bathrooms. Why was he being such a jerk? Before she could twist the knob, Helena pulled her back and kissed her deeply. 

  


After long moments, they managed to tear themselves away from each other and Helena again tucked an errant curl behind Myka’s ear. “Together.”

  


Myka smiled and nodded. “Together.”

  


She turned and opened the door.

  


* * *

  


“What did you do to her?” Pete gripped H.G. by the neck, fury distorting his normally jovial features.

  


She coughed out a garbled sound, stars appearing at the edge of her vision. It was entirely possible she might die by Pete Lattimer’s hand. Even so, she’d done what she came here to do. 

  


“Answer me.” Pete bared his teeth and shoved H.G. harder against the wall.

  


“Holy shit! Pete, let her go. Let her go, Pete!” Claudia tugged at his arm while Jinks tried his best to dislodge Pete’s grip. 

  


“She did something to Myka. I’m not letting go until I find out what it is.” Pete growled.

  


“Dude, she’s about to pass out. Then no one will get any answers.” Claudia pointed out. 

  


Seconds ticked by while everyone waited. “Fine.” Pete dropped his hand. 

  


H.G. let out a great gasping sound, choked and painful as she filled her lungs with air. She coughed and brought her hand up to her throat, massaging the bruised muscles.

  


“Jesus, man. You almost killed her.” Jinks hurried to H.G.’s side.

  


Claudia inserted herself in front of Pete and put her hands up on his chest. “Whoa there, big guy. Let’s just chill a second and find out what is going on.”

  


Pete never took his eyes off the woman on the floor. He’d walked in to find H.G. hovering over Myka with some weird container in her hand. He hadn't stopped to ask questions.

  


Jinks grabbed a small paper cup and filled it with water. He held it out for H.G. to take and watched as she took small sips, sometimes stopping to cough. 

  


“Well?” It was Claudia who asked.

  


Slowly, H.G. rose to her feet and faced them; Myka’s family. “He’s right. I did something to Myka.”

  


Pete cursed and surged forward. This time, it took both Claudia and Jinks to hold him back. “What the hell did you do to her?”

  


H.G. drew in a deep breath, coughing at the soreness in her throat. “The only thing I could. She’s…” H.G. swallowed. “I can’t lose her, too.”

  


“What happened?” Claudia asked, her voice gentle.

  


“I used an artifact to freeze Myka in time, you might say. Her condition will no longer deteriorate, but she won’t improve either. She’s in a form of stasis. Until…”

  


Claudia crossed her arms and shook her head. “Dude, H.G., your heart’s in the right place but an artifact? You know Myka would be seriously pissed if she knew what you’ve done.” 

  


“What about the rest of her?” Pete broke in. “What about her mind? What’s happening to her?”

  


H.G. sighed. “I used the pneuma of the Pythia on her. The Pythia was the Oracle at Delphi. In ancient times, the priestess would sit over a crevice and a sweet smelling vapor would wind around her, almost like a living thing. She would inhale it and go into a trance, murmuring garbled words translated as prophecy.”

  


“So, Myka’s gonna ramble like a crazy person?” Pete asked.

  


“If I’m allowed to finish," H.G. paused, an eyebrow raised at Pete. "You would actually hear the rest of the story. The vapors were more than just gas, as most scholars and historians believe. They had properties that somehow transported the priestess to a different place. A different time, if you will. Her body was frozen but her mind was elsewhere. She had no control over it so when she came out of the trance, her words sounded like ravings and mumblings of someone god touched. The temple priests would then decipher it to vaguely coincide with the question asked.”

  


Claudia snickered. “Gotta hand it to those priests. Bet they racked up some major dough that way.”

  


“Oh yes,” H.G. said. “The Oracle at Delphi was consulted in every undertaking for many years. It was a place of great influence.”

  


“Yeah, that’s great and all. But what about Myka?” Pete pressed.

  


“Instead of the oxygen, I used the artifact and made sure she inhaled the vapor. It looks and acts much the way heated water does. As a result, she’s currently in a place of happiness, that feels real and as far as she’s concerned,  _is_ real. She’s not in any pain. Most likely, we’re all there living life as normal.”

  


They all spared a glance at the emaciated woman in the hospital bed. Machines beeped and whirred, helping her breathe, cleansing her body of toxins, keeping her free from pain. The vibrant woman they all knew and loved was dying by slow, tortuous inches. Frail and small, blankets covering her and a woolen cap on her bald head, Myka Bering looked peaceful as her chest rose and fell rhythmically. Silence fell over the group as the mechanical sounds of life and death continued their unceasing song. Pete blew out a breath and rubbed his face with his hands.

  


“H.G.,” Claudia began.

  


“ _No_.” H.G.'s voice broke and she looked away, blinking fiercely. After a moment, she looked back at them, defiant. “I won’t let her die. I won’t stop looking for a way to save her. Not ever.”

  


“Wait, if the priestess had no control over what she saw, how do you know Myka’s happy?” Jinks asked.

  


“Because I made sure of it.” H.G.’s voice was flat. “She’s someplace safe. Somewhere happy. When we can make sure she’ll be cured, we’ll wake her up.”

  


Pete met H.G.’s gaze with a level one of his own. Something didn’t quite add up; there was more than what H.G. was telling them. He vowed to get to the bottom of it but in the meantime, it looked like Myka would hold steady until they could find a cure. If this woman, who loved Myka as much as he did, was willing to do whatever it took to save his best friend’s life, then he was going to help however he could. He nodded once; she returned the gesture. They were in accord. Whatever it took. 

  


_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Chemo brain is a real thing. I've, unfortunately, witnessed it firsthand with my two aunts who passed away from cancer. 
> 
> The Pythia really is the Oracle at Delphi, but most archeologists and historians think it was ethylene gas seeping up from fault lines under the temple. I just made it into an artifact because I could. And yes, Helena's hiding something. But that's another story. :)


End file.
